


Rosethorn Snare

by Wayward_Dragon



Category: W.I.T.C.H.
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Bad Things Happen Bingo, Canon - Cartoon, Elyon never left Meridian AU, Ficlet, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Minor Injuries, Phobos wants Elyon alive AU, Prompt Fill, a lot of liberties with the plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-09
Updated: 2019-09-09
Packaged: 2020-10-13 13:44:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20583476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wayward_Dragon/pseuds/Wayward_Dragon
Summary: In which Elyon was never stolen away from Meridian.Prompt Fill- Gilded Cage





	Rosethorn Snare

**Author's Note:**

> Oh wow I got this to *exactly* 1000 words, im delighted.  
In this AU Phobos catches Elyon's adoptive parents and Ms. Rudolph before they take her through a portal and keeps her alive.  
My usual nonsense about Murmurs being terrible fungus zombies applies here.  
Phobos' creep rating is very high in this one.
> 
> This is for prompt fill- Gilded Cage, though it could hit Faux-Affectionate Villain, too.

Its days like this, Elyon thinks, that you can’t feel anything wrong. Everything is fine. This is all her life has ever been and ever was. This is a _ good day_.

The cloying scent of her brother’s roses lingers in the air, the mobile Murmurs pad around quietly, everwatching with milky-blank eyes.

She is not afraid, they cannot turn her, like they can others.

Elyon runs her hands along the carvings on the walls of the palace. She never wants for anything here. Her brother has commanded the inhabitants to care for her. Lord Cedric especially, is tasked with her wellbeing.

She is always fed and clothed, no one draws blades on her, no one would dare disobey Prince Phobos, but as Elyon stares up at the rare glimpse of sky from a window, she wonders what its like, to be anyone else.

_ There is something wrong here_, she thinks, but she can’t quite figure out _ what _.

Elyon opens the door and bows her head quietly.

“Hello, little sister,” Her brother’s voice calls, pleasant as the lush garden she had walked through to get here, and almost as dangerous

She walks one more step forward and responds, “Good morning, brother.”

She just has one daily chore, a little thing, really, Phobos had explained.

It was the least she could do, for the safe haven from the terrible outside world that Phobos has made for her. Him forbidding her leaving was natural, it simply wasn’t safe for her, outside his castle.

Phobos smiles and replies, “Are you ready, Elyon?”

She nods, “Yes.”

Stepping forward, she walks to the bowl in the center of the room and picks up the knife.

It hurts, to slice a cut and plunge it into the water in the bowl, a small price to pay though, it could be worse.

It makes her dizzy, to flash power to her hands and charge the red-tinged water until it turns a glowing green.

But it only lasts a little while, and others would simply bleed her dry and kill her. Be much less kind, less gentle.

The cut closes up by itself in an hour anyway.

“Good girl,” Phobos praises, and it brings warmth and heady affection to chase away misgivings. She recharged the well so Phobos could keep the castle strong, and each time she did it, she got a little better at it, could make a little more without hitting the edge where she felt faint.

Phobos rests a hand on her head and Elyon smiles. Her brother was quite sparse with praise, it was nice when she got it, when she did her task perfectly and didn't kick up any sort of fuss.

He draws away and sends Elyon back. When she gets to her rooms the cut no longer bleeds, and most of the Murmurs have disappeared back into the garden.

Its only a stretch of time enough to carefully draw a rabbit -a curiosity that she had seen when a guest had brought rare animals to the palace- before there was a clamor.

Setting her pen down, she walked curiously to the noise.

A man, kind of a boy, really, was trussed up in chains and being dragged through the hallway, his face bared in a snarl, “You’ll never get away with this! We’ll win eventually, and you’ll return The Light to her place!”

Elyon freezes in the shadows with her heart in her throat. This man was a rebel. Phobos had told her about rebels. About how they kill all who stand in their way, how dangerous and cruel they were, and above all, how they _ always lie_.

How they call her _ The Light_, for the power in her very bones, and how they covet it for themselves, and will take her from her safe place here.

She sees the man fighting the guards, and thinks about how true the stories seem to be. Hes so terribly angry, so vicious to people who tell her stories and keep her safe- screaming and kicking all the way. But! She wants to know _ why_.

So she waits and watches, and once hes chained up in a small room sometime after lunch, she pulls a cloak on and visits him.

She thinks about what she wants to say the whole way, but upon entering the room and looking at him, all she can ask is-

“Why.”

He pushes himself to his feet with a grimace.

“Why _ what_? Be an upstanding person?”

She swallows, _ he can’t hurt her_, she reminds herself, _ he can’t reach her_, “Why would you try to hurt us?”

He snarls, “Ask _ Phobos _ that! The life in the land is fading and its _ his _ fault!”

A lie, Elyon notes. The rebels think Phobos is to blame for it all, Phobos had said, but its just poor soil, and no one controls the rain. _ They can’t be convinced otherwise_, he said, _ they’re hysterical_.

Elyon feels sorry for the boy-man, with his green-painted cheeks and bloody nose struggling on the floor.

“What were you planning to do about it?”

‘This is a unique interrogation,” He non-answers

“What will you do to Prince Phobos, if you could?”

The boys eyes burn bright with a cold and chilling conviction, “Id _ kill him where he stood_.”

Elyon feels the chill of his words run down her spine. She leaves the room without another word.

On her way back she hears Lord Cedric from behind her, “Have a nice chat?”

Elyon freezes, caught, “Ah- he’s very scary.”

Cedric gives a small smile, “Find what you were looking for?”

Elyon nods, slowly, and shivers, “He wants to kill my brother, why would _ anyone _ want that?”

Cedric’s smile presses thin, “Why indeed.”

He snaps his book shut, “Come, let’s get you to dinner.”

_ There is no safer place than the castle_, Elyon repeats to herself, the conversation confirming that fact.

But as she runs her fingers across her nearly healed cut, she finds the cloying scent of roses and blood remains.

**Author's Note:**

> Did you catch the implication Cedric is plotting Phobos' murder?  
Did you like my angst?  
Leave a comment if you're up to it!


End file.
